


World's Greatest Dad

by Wandering_Moose



Category: Starbound (Video Game)
Genre: Father's Day, Father/Daughter Dynamic, Fluff, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 21:44:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9347582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wandering_Moose/pseuds/Wandering_Moose
Summary: He's never gonna stop wearing the shirt.





	

Vomit sat in his ship, eyes glued to a holo-newspaper. He remembered back when they actually used paper- HA. So obsolete. The front page was nothing but schlock- "Local Man Claims To Have Fought Enormous Tentacle Monster". Yeah, no. Not happening. Not in any universe in any timeline. He arrested someone once who was doing things with tentacles, but that was unimportant.

He hummed in displeasure as he turned to the sports section and saw that his favorite Goblin Darts team had lost. Again. He always picked the underdogs, shame on him.

He was lost in thought for a moment before the harsh beeping of his intercom. Ah, communication. He folded his newspaper up and set it on the little rusty table nearby before slamming his hand onto the button. It was so rusty that you had to hit it hard, or it wouldn't work. It was also hard for him to resist answering with "Joe's Sperm Bank, you squeeze it, we freeze it!"

"Vomit speaking, what do you need?"

"Yo," Haamu crackles through her own mic, and backed off, worried she was too loud. 

"It's me. Mind if I beam in?" Shuttle mics were crap, but she wasn't going to get on her ship until later tonight, until her crew had just as much shore time as she could give. She checked her bag in case she might've forgot her gift, and relaxed a bit when she confirmed its presence, practically vibrating for a reply.

“Yeah, come on over. You're not missing much if you don't though." Vomit slapped the intercom button again, because it hadn't quite popped out again after the last slap.

What could she want now, though? The criminal scum was apprehended, and he didn't have any other case files in this star system.

"Be careful, my teleporter has been acting up lately. Last person who came through lost a shoe."

Haamu thought about what he said, and paused a bit. She scrounged through her box of parts for some extra equipment. It made her sad to see him falling apart like so, and she always did whatever she could whenever she came. She had two spare relays and some bits of high tech and metal- it should be easy enough to get his stuff right as rain. With arms comically full, she beamed aboard, and patted herself down immediately.

None of the equipment was gone, but her back was suddenly more strained. Oh... okay. She liked that bra, but it's best not to mention it. Play it cool, pretend you're not strained.

"I'm here," she called energetically, trying to think of how to phrase her question politely.

"Come in, the cabin door's open!" he yelled back, trying to fight with a rusted chair leg so she'd have somewhere to sit.

With a horrible squeak, the chair leg bent back into place. He let Starkchain sit there once- never again. That poor chair was never the same. He slid it over by the round table he had set his paper on. 

His ship might not have been in the most presentable state, but he wasn't worried about Haamu seeing it. She didn't seem to mind before anyway.

Deep breaths. Baby steps. Haamu danced the terrible waltz of "gravity don't fuck me now", balancing the boxes. The door was automatic- thank crystal space Jesus- but the door got stuck. 

"Really?!" 

Nothing a little Woahcritz-40 wouldn't fix, but irritating nonetheless with loose guns and an armful of equipment.

She slid a box off the top, gently, full of stuff that wasn't fragile, and climbed through awkwardly, her swears quietly blending languages. Past the airlock she shuffled, kicking the lighter box along, and into the cabin, noticeably disheveled. There he was, all goopy and jello looking. It was amusing in hindsight that she was going to ask a jello man if he had kids.

He turned and noticed the stuck door. God dammit, he'd have to fix that today.

"I'm sorry about the door- I should probably completely replace it. I'll have to stop next time I'm at an outpost and look at doors."

He looked at Haamu and her boxes.

"I can take the boxes, you should sit! And I think there's some food in the mini-fridge if you're hungry."

He straightened up, squaring off his shoulders and- wait. Oh. She was... braless? His teleporter was a bra thief. What next, panty raiding? But whatever, gentlemen don't point those things out.

She felt his eyes wander, and sighed. So much for no one noticing. While he was decreasing the load on her short arms, she mentioned rather casually, "Y'know, I liked that one. It had a Finnish flag design." Realizing the discomfort of such a subject, she quickly shifted it to her main purpose.

"I... wanted to ask you something. And maybe run some maintenance on your tech, since I haven't done that in a while. But the question first." She held one smaller box closer. She was probably going to give him the shirt anyway, but wanted to wait for the right time.

"I'm sorry- I'll have Starkchain transfer some funds into your account so you can replace it. I lost a pair of underwear the other day. It was horrible."

He took the boxes and started making his way over to his desk to set them down. The desk groaned under the boxes. He paid it no mind, the desk had stood up to the test of time, it'd be just fine. He spun around and took his newspaper on the little table and moved it to his desk, just in case something had to be set down on that particular table. You never know.

"I'm an open book, sport, ask me anything. And you don't have to worry about my teleporter- you've already done a lot for me. I can take care of it."

He pulled off his cap and ran a hand through his (somehow) pure white hair. Even he didn't know how it was so white. The magic of Ooze genetics.

She laughed to herself rather quietly as a kind of stress relief. "I want to know if you have family anymore. Kids. Grandkids. Anyone, really. Or a birthday of some sort."

The sniper focused on her teleporter relay, taking it apart, eyeing his expression in her peripherals. "And... I insist on the maintenance thing. Please. I enjoy it."

In her head, she hoped sincerely he wouldn't mind. Her gifts, or even the question. The last thing she wanted to do was get judged. Or kicked out. Or stare too long at him wondering if he actually felt like jello, or if his hair was really hair and not just an illusion, instead being pure jello-mix. And wondering if he'd turn into a literal Popsicle in a freezer.

She wondered about the Popsicle thing every time they've worked together, actually. She should probably stop doing that.

He raised his eyebrows and chuckled quietly. Nobody had ever bothered to ask about him before.

"I- uh, no. I don't have any kids. No real family either. I always wanted kids- never really had the chance to have any."

He ruffled his hair and placed a hand firmly on the back of his neck. It's a weird comfort habit- he couldn't explain it if he wanted to.

"My birthday is on... I think it was February 14th. It's been years since I've celebrated. I'm so old I wonder if it's even worth it anymore. When I was in school they were still trying to invent rocket boots."

Funny, they had so much advanced technology but humans still couldn't have made proper rocket boots a hundred years ago.

It was relaxing to hear him say that, weirdly enough. Her shoulders immediately relaxed, and she beamed.

"It's a shame. You'd be a great dad... no offense. So... I got you this, for, always looking out for me, and... just making me feel my age. Everybody all expects no nonsense and skill from me, and I'm... I didn't even finish my protectorate training. It's like my childhood all over again where I'm just expected..." She realized she was rambling and almost wringing the shirt, and immediately outstretched it, toward him.

It was a white shirt, decorated with the ancient flag of "America", and her handprint in blue to the right. One of those cheesy DIY kid's greatest dad shirts, the caption in glitter and red, blue, gold, and green. "World's Universe's Greatest Dad". 

"Happy father's day, I guess," She cut herself off, "And thanks for looking out for me. For caring. And making me feel like... something I don't understand. A kid?"

It wasn't a bad looking shirt. It clearly looked better than if a child had done it, but still had handmade charm. "You could always wear it as pajamas if you don't like it," she finished, tinkering with the relay again.

He cocked his head and grinned. Deep down in his gooey chest, his heart was (hopefully not literally) growing three sizes. He reached out and took the shirt, turning the soft cotton over in his hands He must have looked the shirt up and down for what felt like an eternity to Haamu.

Vomit immediately took off his leather jacket and put on the shirt over his ratty gray wifebeater.

"Pumpkin- I love it. I think this is the most heartfelt gift I've been given by anyone ever. How could I not look out for you? You're the only person in any realm of law enforcement that has been nice to me in decades and you're very sweet and honestly you deserve to be able to be yourself and-"

He cut himself off from that ramble- whoa. Hold up. Pause. He just called a grown-ass woman Pumpkin. Without permission. Whoops. Severe whoops.

"And if I had a daughter I would want her to be just like you."

Oh shit, was she about to cry? She sniffled a bit, back turned, but then turned round and grabbed him in a gooey hug.

"And I wish you were my dad, but instead I got a shitty philandering bastard."

Oh. She was holding a grown man in her arms and crying. Anyone would see something like that and- past his shoulder she noticed a robot step in and immediately step back out. Right. Haamu pulled out of the hug, relinquishing Vomit's arms from his sides, and stared at the floor.

"Yeah. You'd be a great dad, and I'm sorry."

"... I'm very sorry your father was so horrible. You deserved- you deserve better."

He reached out and pulled her back into another gooey hug. Because fuck it, that's why. Stern gooey fatherly hugs are the best things.

"You don't have to be sorry for anything, because you've done nothing wrong and everything right. And anybody who says otherwise is full of hot air. You're doing your best and I think it should be clear to anyone and everyone."

He felt a tear slipping out of his left eye. God dammit. Don't cry Vomit- you can't sabotage your tough image!

Great. Ugly waterworks as she let out a little puff of air. "Thank you. Thank you... you're like a father figure to me, so enjoy the shirt." It was pathetic for her to be this way, but when she looked up and caught him tearing up, too, she wiped away a tear, and just blinked. "I'm happy, you know? It might be demeaning to be called pumpkin or sport, but... for someone like me who had no time to be a kid, you can call me that stuff and play baseball with me, and I wouldn't care at all. I'm grateful..." 

She was wiping her face with her sleeve, her youthful round face curled in embarrassment, big brown eyes all watery, nose and cheeks puffy and red, and she betrayed her usual look of tiredness with an unseen side of innocence. "But I don't want to eat at your time. I have this relay all fixed, and some parts for the door."

"I promise you that I have nothing but time. You're not eating my time at all."

He smiled and sniffled, the goo around his eyes seeming a little more green than usual. He reached back into his pocket, pulled out a red bandanna, and offered it to Haamu so she could wipe her eyes/blow her nose if need be.

"You don't have to thank me either. This is all my pleasure- it's the best thing that's happened to me in years. You're the best thing that's happened to me in years."

He sniffled again, and stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Than you for fixing my relay and bringing parts for my door. I can definitely fix that one though, you've done more than enough for me today."

"It's not a problem. I can leave it here. I should probably go anyway, since I'm headed off for the next bounty," Haamu began to spout off, trying to feel less sappy, "Nasty guy over in Nootshackia IV, another sex offender." She wiped her tears gently, as if afraid of damaging the cloth, and clutching it as if she had more to say, but couldn't clear her throat.

"About those kinds of bounties..."

Vomit shuffled his feet nervously. He didn't want to seem like he was overstepping his boundaries or being overprotective...

"When it's a sex offender, I'd appreciate it if you'd call me so I could either come along and help or catch the person for you. I worry about you on these kinds of missions- I know you're capable and skilled, but it still makes me incredibly anxious when you're in close-quarters situations with creeps like that. I don't want you to get hurt."

"Are you worrying about me?" It was shocking. Nobody worried about her like that. Then she showed the doofiest, wide smile ever. "That's so nice. Thank you for your concern. I'm... gonna leave my comm system's number here, okay? We should have a more stable method of keeping in touch... I'm sure if I swap some servers around you'll have a stable connection to just call me anytime. Or I can call you. But only if you want that."

Her comm unit embarrassingly beeped agitatedly in her pocket. Casper was calling.

"You can call me whenever you want. I'm almost always free. In fact, it'd probably be a highlight of my day if you did call me."

Vomit looked down at her beeping pocket and back up again.

"You gonna answer that?"

"No."

Haamu stood up, a tiny smile on her face. "Fuck that guy."

She extended her arms expectantly. "Goodbye hug."

He reached out and pulled Haamu into the biggest beariest hug he could muster.

"I hope the rest of your day goes well... and stay safe, Pumpkin."

"You too. Take care of yourself, sir," she added, kissing his cheek and beaming out. Hopefully she didn't go to far with that. Thankfully, she didn't have time to worry, with an angry Casper staring her down on the shuttle's display. No rest for the weary.

Vomit was never the smiley type, but he couldn't quite shake the enormous smile from his face. Today was a good day.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally sent in RP format through discord, it's now here in fic format for your viewing pleasure.


End file.
